Even as lost in sensation as he is, some part of him manages to protest that. He wouldn't be here if he were perfect, wouldn't be an outcast. Wouldn't be doing this. But it's brief and halfhearted and quickly washed away by a wave of pleasure.

He needs this, right now, to be held down and claimed and filled. To be wanted. And he kisses with more fervor, though no greater skill, as the creature moves against him and in him and urges him on. He hadn't really thought there'd be more to it than this, to the extent he can think at all, to be filled and held and kissed this way, and then the creature moves. Pulls out a little and then pushes back in and Fives groans and shudders, shock and pleasure chasing through his system.